


A Study in Red

by Port_in_a_Storm



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Anger, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port_in_a_Storm/pseuds/Port_in_a_Storm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron reflects on why he and Robert shouldn't work, but also precisely why they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow Robron fans! This is my first fanfic for Emmerdale (my first fanfic in a fair few years, in fact). I wanted to get started with something short and a bit reflective; therefore expect no plot. This is just me dipping my toes into the raging river of Robron and seeing how I like it (and how you guys like my writing!)

Anger dominated Aaron Livesy’s life; so much so that he thought on some days that he wouldn’t die the way people are supposed to: with a whimper. He’d die with a scream; a wretched, blood-curdling screech to his maker.

There were patches of calm throughout his life: Paddy, all-too brief moments with his Mum. Jackson. But even those memories were coloured with pain, anger and fear most days.

Robert became a person who could rile Aaron as easily as he could calm him. And the opposite was true as well. He remembered moments of complete disaster, when he could feel his patience slipping one angry gesture at a time, and then a word from Robert and he’d be laughing. He had never experienced anything like it. Is this, he wondered, what being crazy in love felt like? Emotions scattered and whirling, like leaves in a wild wind?

Robert knew exactly which buttons to press. But, equally, Aaron knew where Robert’s buttons were as well, and boy did he love to press them when the mood took him; when he was in the mood for a fight. And Robert, when the moment struck, was so easy to rile. More so now that he couldn’t just leave when he wanted to; when he couldn’t just go, escape back to his ‘normal’ life with Chrissie in his giant mansion of a house, where he could leave his anger in a room on its own and forget about it for a while.

Aaron wondered if them getting together, actually trying to do this thing as an _actual relationship_ was a good idea: they were too alike, both too volatile. His mother gave him a _look_ (like she wanted to achieve sympathy, but the smugness had won out, let alone just participated) whenever he turned up in the pub with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a frown on his face. But then Robert would turn up an hour or so later (depending on the strength of their argument) with his own _look_ which said both ‘I’m sorry, I’m an idiot’ but also ‘you should be sorry, too, because you’re also an idiot’. And Aaron would shake his head, breathe a laugh through his nose, bite his lip, throw his bag at Robert and follow him out of the pub. (A quickly worded 'we're fine now' text would be sent to Chas later, post-coital, sweat cooling on their skin, both shivering because inevitably the duvet had been thrown off, somewhere between Aaron losing his left boot, and Robert ripping off his own shirt.)

The house rocked equally as hard when they fought as when they fucked, and both happened in equal measure. 

Aaron wondered if this would ever work: he and Robert were so alike that they were ill-suited. But when he saw through the red which glazed over his vision and into the blue-green eyes of his lover; saw the love and passion which he knew radiated from his own gaze (because one of the things about both of them was that they never loved by halves), he knew that no matter what, he’d always want to give them a try.


End file.
